لَقَد طالَ في رَسمِ الدِيارِ بُكائي

وَقَدطالَ تَردادي بِها وَعَنائي

Long has my weeping lingered in the abodes,

Long have I wept upon the traces of the dwellings, and long have I paced there in suffering and strain.

And long has my circling them and my distress continued.

As though I were stalking elusive quarry in the ruins, glimpsing it now before me, and now behind.

كَأَنّي مُريغٌ في الدِيارِ طَريدَةً

أَراها أَمامي مَرَّةً وَوَرائي

It is as if I am a wild cow in the dwellings, hounded,

And when despair became plain, I turned my mount away from the abode, and resignation took hold of my mind.

I see them before and behind me.

To a tavern where the watchdogs do not growl at me, nor do they look askance at my long remaining.

فَلَمّا بَدا لي اليَأسُ عَدَّيتُ ناقَتي

عَنِ الدارِ وَاستَولى عَلَيَّ عَزائي

So when despair overcame me, I turned my she-camel

If the golden wine has ravaged my inheritance, then neither my dignity nor my shame could offer shielding.

Away from the abode, and my grief took hold of me.

I did not depart until it had claimed all my hand possessed, down to my very mantle and my sandal-binding.

إِلى بَيتِ حانٍ لا تَهُرُّ كِلابُهُ

عَلَيَّ وَلايُنكِرنَ طُولَ ثَوائي

To a tavern where dogs do not bark at me

And I drank from a cup shining like the lamp of heaven, sealed with a kiss or a promise of a meeting.

Nor disapprove my long stay.

The days have passed over it until it seems like light cascading from the fissures of the sky.

فَإِن تَكُنِ الصَهباءُ أَودَت بِتالِدي

فَلَم توقِني أُكرومَتي وَحَيائي

And if the gray-haired lady has wished for my absence,

You see its radiance beaming from the vessel's face, casting light upon you though you veil it with a covering.

She did not forbid my misdeeds and my shame.

Blessed be He who governs all affairs with His knowledge, and who has favored Harun above all Caliphs.

فَما رِمتُهُ حَتّى أَتى دونَ ماحَوَت

يَمينِيَ حَتّى رَيطَتي وَحِذائي

I did not aim at him until he came within

We live in prosperity so long as we embrace piety, and so long as the Father of the Trustworthy rules our world.

My right hand’s reach, grasping my shoes and socks.

An Imam who fears God, as though he expects to behold His countenance morning and evening.

وَكَأسٍ كَمِصباحِ السَماءِ شَرِبتُها

عَلى قُبلَةٍ أَو مَوعِدٍ بِلِقاءِ

And a cup like a lamp in the sky I drank,

Proud of bearing, long of reach; so tall, it seems the baldric of his sword is hung from a battle-standard.

After a kiss or tryst.

أَتَت دونَها الأَيّامُ حَتّى كَأَنَّها

تَساقُطُ نورٍ مِن فُتوقِ سَماءِ

The days came after it as if

Drops of light were falling from the sky’s openings.

تَرى ضَوءَها مِن ظاهِرِ الكَأسِ ساطِعاً

عَلَيكَ وَإِن غَطَّيتَها بِغِطاءِ

You see its light shining from outside the cup

Even if you cover it with a lid.

تَبارَكَ مَن ساسَ الأُمورَ بِعِلمِهِ

وَفَضَّلَ هاروناً عَلى الخُلَفاءِ

Blessed is He who manages affairs with His knowledge

And favored Harun over the caliphs.

نَعيشُ بِخَيرٍ ما انطَوَينا عَلى التُقى

وَما ساسَ دُنيانا أَبو الأُمَناءِ

We live well as long as we are clothed in piety

And as long as the Trustworthy One rules over our world.

إِمامٌ يَخافُ اللَهَ حَتّى كَأَنَّهُ

يُؤَمَّلُ رُؤياهُ صَباحَ مَساءِ

A leader who fears God until it seems

He awaits seeing Him in the morning or evening.

أَشَمُّ طُوالُ الساعِدَينِ كَأَنَّما

يُناطُ نِجاداً سَيفِهِ بِلِواءِ

I smell the musk of the two forearms as if

Perfume were rubbed on his sword along with the banner.